Chapter Text
Misunderstood. Isang salitang naglalarawan kay Atsumu Miya, diyos ng kamatayan.
Most Gods, monsters, and mortals alike all assume he was cold, calculating, and emotionless — but those close to him knew better. They knew better than to assume this loud, cocky bastard wasn’t a loud cocky, bastard. He was borderline a party god.
“Stop stealing my spot, Miya,” Yuji would grumble under his breath, rolling his eyes when Atsumu only winked his way.
Atsumu was the god of the dead who would often be seen atop the tallest tree on Mr. Madjaas, he measured the life of all newborns, placing a mark on the tree, once they grow tall enough to reach that mark, they will pass away. Often painted as a dark god, what outsiders don’t know was how forgiving he was, sometimes extending the lives of the mortals in exchange for a little attention and ritual.
When their souls are reaped, Atsumu will then pass it on to Osamu, his twin and the God of the sea, and the one who takes their souls to Sulad, the land of the dead.
This routine was…passable. It was alright, Atsumu would shrug.
They were all accustomed to it by now, millenniums of helping the world go round, life on earth wouldn’t continue without their intervention. It was a pattern, something unremarkable; the gods became jaded over time.
Oh how the gods envied those mortals, how easy it is for them. How beautiful they are, their mortality. There is so much pain in their measly lives, how temporary they are but that’s what makes them beautiful. The mortals' capacity to feel pain, euphoria, to feel excitement, and surprise, horror, and fear — the gods envied that. They envied everything mortality came with, even death.
Humans will never be as beautiful as they are in that moment, because a lifetime for them is a second to a god. Humans will never be as lovely or as tragic as they are at that very second of their lives. It's ironic how the tragedy of a human life is what makes them gorgeous, it's what makes them delicate.
But existing, the god of death found, was starting to become a chore, a pain, a bore. He grew restless, grew uneasy, and he grew exhausted.
His escapades to Mt. Madjaas became frequent, searching for solace, searching for peace, searching for a home that never was. He would sit on top of the trees every new moon and look up, brown eyes examine the sky to look for a way out, for a constellation that would point him to the answer to his midlife crisis. Hoping that the lack of the lunar body would make the stars shine brighter, clearer, and hear his pleas louder.
Two young faced deities accompanied him one night, one whose blond hair was decorated with stars while the other had the constellations across his cheek.
“It’s weird seeing you all alone, maginoo,” Hitoka sat to his right, smiling softly as she moved her hands to play with the stars in the sky, her own personal sketchbook. The girl deity of the stars drew an image of the god of death, with his hands crossed over his chest, a comically large frown on his face.
“Looking for something, maginoo?” Tadashi, the boy deity of the stars laid on his stomach, chin resting on the palm of his hands as he teasingly gazed over at Atsumu. Following where his eyes were, Tadashi too looked up at the midnight sky. Dark inky blue skies above them, an expansive sansinukob.
“Something,” Atsumu hummed, “You could say that, thought I’m still not sure what that thing is, kid,” he ignored the way the boy deity whined at the use of the word ‘kid’.
“Yknow, maginoo, you should try coming here when the moon is actually making an appearance,” Tadashi grinned, “It’s absolutely breathtaking, especially when it’s a full moon,”
Hitoka stifled a giggle, “You only say that because you have a crush on the full moon deity, Tsukishima,”. Tadashi mumbled a quiet ‘shut up’ looking away to hide the blush on his cheeks. Atsumu chuckled at the two, enjoying their company.
Atsumu was always surrounded by his way too serious friends and their way too serious conversations, not helped by his twin brother's dry teasing, so to be accompanied by two people who share the same easy going mindset as him was like a breath of fresh air. Maybe he should take up that sun deity’s offer for a date, wasn’t he friends with Hitoka and Tadashi?
“There are rumors that the waxing crescent deity’s beauty is out of this world, something that can beat even Shimizu’s beauty to the point,” Hitoka sighed dreamily at the mention of Shimizu, the goddess of love. Atsumu’s ear perked up at this, someone even more beautiful than Kiyoko Shimizu? Was that even possible? Bathala had made sure millenniums ago that the dark haired goddess would become the embodiment of beauty. She was marilag. Isang binibining marikit.
So how and who is this waxing crescent deity?
The god of death racked his brain for answers. There were seven deities ruling the moon, different for each phase but he only ever saw and knew Kei, the full moon deity. He was the only one who would willingly come to meetings, representing his siblings so he could relay to them what the pantheon had discussed.
And surely, if he ever met such extreme beauty, he'd very obviously remember who it was.
He cursed his terrible memory, sure he was a god but who said he has to remember every single being he’s ever met? Being a hundred million years old, of course he would forget things, especially if it was a face.
Looking up in hopes that if he looked far enough, he'd see his brain and yell at it to at least remember something, he caught sight of one particular constellation, Pisces. The sight of the cluster immediately took him back to one particular summer solstice.
It was a celebration, it was loud, it was light hearted, and it was Atsumu's type of scene. The heavy air that surrounded most of the pantheon was gone, replaced only with laughter, a little too much intoxicated on nektar.
The god sauntered around the castle, flirting shamelessly with engkantos and diwatas. He loved moments like these, the feeling of being a lonely god would disappear every time he heard Oikawa, the king of the gods, and Iwaizumi, the god of vices ’ playful banters, he felt comforted whenever Kita, the god of cultivated land, approached him for quiet conversations, and he felt less alone over all, being surrounded by so many beings.
“Suna!” Atsumu draped a hand over the god of tempests ’ shoulders, the dark haired deity merely hummed to acknowledge his friend’s loud existence.
“May malupet akong sikreto para sayo,” Suna raised an eyebrow at the man, urging him to continue with what he was trying to say. “May planong umakyat ng ligaw kapatid ko, payag ka ‘dun?” Atsumu ’s fox grin appeared on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief. Maybe he’s had enough nektar for the day but no one’s gonna tell the god of death that, obviously.
“Di magandang biro yan, tarantado,” Suna shrugged Atsumu ’s hands off him, glaring ever so slightly at the trouble maker. “I’m not joking, Sunano,” the god of tempests growled at the nickname, finding offense to being compared to such foul creatures.
“Noon pa may gusto sayo ‘yon — diba ‘bal gusto mong makipag-momol kay Sunano?” Atsumu raised his voice, looking over his shoulder to catch his twin brother’s attention. Osamu’s cheeks immediately started to glow a bright red, mouth agape in disbelief. Did his brother really just expose his long kept secret?
“Alam mo ikaw—!” Osamu started running towards the two, Atsumu quickly dashing away from the scene, brother hot on his tail. “Hali ka dito, Miya Atsumu, mag-uusap lang tayo ng matino,” the god of the sea yelled, hands glowing a bright blue hue, getting ready to grab his twin with a rope of water.
“Isa kang torpe, bal!” Atsumu laughed maniacally, ducking when shots of water were aimed at him.
“Parang mga bata lang sila, ‘no?” Daichi, the god of labor, chuckled under his breath, watching the twins wrestle each other for a minute before approaching the two, soothing Osamu ’s anger. “Halika na, gumawa si Sugawara ng leche flan,” the god of the sea immediately changed moods at the mention of his favorite dessert.
Atsumu laughed quietly, dusting off his maroon bahag. Turning around, the god of death ’s hazel eyes met with inky black ones, freezing him in place. They were enchanting. Narahuyo si Atsumu ng mga matang hawak ang buong sansinukob.
He couldn’t see the rest of the owner’s face for it was covered by dark blue mesh face veil, color the same as the midnight sky. The Pisces constellation was sewed onto the face veil, they glowed and twinkled under the candle light. Carefully styled black curls rested against porcelain skin and there, just above his right eyebrow, were two moles. Atsumu wondered, if he pressed his lips against those moles, would they align with the bottom and top of his lips?
This mystery figure quickly looked away, moving swiftly away from the large crowds. Atsumu moved to follow him but a hand stopped him, grasping his shoulder. He followed the hand up to the muscular biceps, already knowing who it was. Iwaizumi.
“Hinihintay ka na ng tropa, di kami maka-inom nang wala ka,” Atsumu wiped away the bewildered look on his face to shoot the god of vices a lofty smirk, turning around to follow him to where the others were sat.
Though the god of death would occasionally look over his shoulders, gaze lingering to where he first saw that kabigha-bighani being.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi!” Tadashi snapped his fingers, the stars on his cheeks lighting up once the name came to mind. “Kiyoomi is his name! I remember Tsukki talking about his siblings the other night, he said that Kiyoomi was…well, he was mataray, to say the least,” the green haired boy shot Hitoka a dirty look when she once again covered her mouth to hide her laughter.
“Why were you and Kei talking, hm?”
“None of your business!”
Atsumu tuned out the two arguing deities, eyes back up at the sky as he repeated the name over and over in his head. “Sa-ku-sa Ki-yoo-mi,” the six syllables rolled off his tongue so easily, almost like his lips were meant to cry out that name, like his every being was made for that name. He wanted to repeatedly mumble that name under his breath, he wanted to mumble it over and over again until it almost became his own.
“Omi,” that night, he decided, that the name was as mahiwaga as the person who owned that name.
3 days passed and Atsumu Miya was once again back in Mt. Madjaas, staring in awe at the crescent moon. It was as if the celestial body was grinning but Atsumu just couldn’t put his fingers on why it was so beautiful. For a moment he feared someone had slipped him some gayuma, ganyan siya ka-hibang.
An hour or two passed by but for the first time in a long time, Atsumu was okay with being left alone, left alone to stare at the midnight sky identifying all the constellations that were out to play tonight. He found peace at that moment, the peace he’s been searching for outside of parties and social events, the peace that came so naturally.
At the corner of his eyes, the god of death saw seven figures dancing around the moon, their figures were bewitching, the way their figures glowed along the moonlight, stars were twinkling, dancing with them. Atsumu could see Tsukishima, quietly swaying around, cupping a bright star against his chest.
And like that summer solstice day, his eyes strayed towards isang mailap na lalake, half of his face covered by the same mesh face veil. The sheer haori that clung loosely onto his skinny figure, the material of the cloth was less of a fabric and more like he took the night sky and weaved it into that haori. The clothes looked beautiful on him, they were made for him after all, right? He was literally wearing the universe.
Smooth milky skin shimmered and shined beneath the moonlight, wrapping his body softly, almost giving him this ethereal glow. Moon dust glimmered under the light, highlighting his almost perfect being.
Damn, Atsumu thought, I didn’t know Bathala was capable of creating something more than perfect.
Midnight orbs met his sunset eyes.
Blood slowly rushed up to his cheeks in embarrassment, an emotion he rarely felt. He didn’t know why but the feeling of being the center of attention of such an immaculate creation made chills run down his spine and monsters ravage in his stomach, his heart up his throat.
Atsumu gave a shaky smile, hands in a quick wave.
Sakusa blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Tilting his head a bit, curly hair falling over his eyes, Sakusa waved back hesitantly, body swaying along to the tune of Semi, god of waning gibbous and music’s buktot; sharp, bright tunes of the stringed instrument followed by an airy aftertaste.
The bleach blond god felt his smile grow, the shy, worried look on his face disappeared, being replaced with a large, giddy grin. Atsumu fell back, body hitting the grassy earth of the mountain, hands clutching his chest where his heart lay between ivory cages.
“Looks like someone has an admirer,” Tsukishima sauntered his way towards his lunar sibling, leaning forward with a teasing smile on his lips. Sakusa’s gaze lingered over the god of death who was almost comically rolling over the ground trying to calm his beating heart before breaking his attention back to the tow headed god.
“He looks like an idiot,” came the blunt yet predictable observation.
Misunderstood. Tsukishima clicked his tongue, knowing well how often Atsumu was called an idiot or just how many mortals perceived him to be cold hearted. Don’t get him wrong, Atsumu does have his dumb moments, more often than others, but Tsukishima has held enough conversation with him to know there was more than meets the eye.
“He is an idiot but Hinata seems to speak highly of him,” Kei rolled his eyes at the mention of the sun god, reluctant to acknowledge the orange haired social butterfly’s opinions. He didn’t want to really give it much thought but even if Shouyou was easily impressed all the time, the way he talked about the god of death somehow moved Kei. Because it reminded him of the same way he talked about Tadashi.
“Hinata says he’s generous guy, somewhat forgiving, and dedicated, sometimes makes the dumbest decisions but that’s nothing new given the pantheon we’re a part of,” the full moon deity leaned his entire body weight against Sakusa. “That’s my favorite relationship dynamic, y’know? Grumpy, antisocial little you and a wild, affectionate idiot like Atsumu,”
Sakusa let out a grunt, still unconvinced. He could hear the suggestion in Kei’s voice, verbally urging him to entertain the thought of entertaining the god of death currently not so subtly having a kilig attack beneath them. The moon boy didn’t really know what to do, he just wasn’t into the idea of suitors, no matter how many he had. They were all the same, only looking at his outer appearance and deciding on a whim that they wanted him. Like some price to be won.
“Atsumu,” the three syllables felt weird between his lips. “It means insatiable hunger,” the said deity looked up back towards Sakusa and fell into another kilig attack when he noticed the moon deity’s attention was still on him, a few chuckles escaping his throat. Insatiable hunger and yet, just the simple action of looking at him seemed to make his day.
“An insatiable hunger for you,” Kei grinned teasingly.
Sakusa shook his head, turning back around to continue his silent swaying, letting the legato of semi’s strings lull him back to peace, helping his mind find peace.
Love, Sakusa decided a thousand years ago, just wasn’t for him. So many tales of star crossed lovers, of relationships never working out simply took the spark of it all from him, he just wasn’t ready to get hurt like in the stories.
“Love just isn’t for me,” he’d reason with his siblings whenever they asked him about his relationship status but in reality that was far from the truth.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was touch and love starved. Sakusa Kiyoomi was afraid of love.
No matter how many days and nights he spends on Kiyoko’s couch, lamenting to the goddess of love just how terrifying it is to fall for someone, he could never really grasp the concept on why you would voluntarily set yourself up for pain and disappointment.
“That’s just how it is, Kiyoomi,” Kiyoko told him one day. “It’s the irony of love, without pain, how could you grow? Without heartbreak, how would you know what pure unadulterated love is? Love is pain and pain is love, that is one of the few truths I know — love is a trial and error situation, it is not always perfect in the first try, I deliberately made it that way,”
But there was one that thing has haunted Sakusa every day after that meeting. The way Kiyoko looked him straight in the eye, a knowing smile on her face. “Key words are: not always, there are the lucky bunch,” she didn’t elaborate further but it hasn’t left Sakusa’s mind since. There was a secret she wasn’t saying, strings she’s pulling.
It continued like that, it went on for weeks, Atsumu never failed to visit each night, sometimes he’d be an hour early, just staring at the moon in awe. Sometimes he’d be accompanied by Hitoka and Tadashi, sometimes he was alone, just hoping to glimpse at Sakusa and his ethereal beauty.
And the inevitable happened, Atsumu Miya fell in love with Sakusa Kiyoomi.
He was content with staring from far away until he wasn’t.
Sakusa’s beauty was almost a myth among the gods, the moon deity rarely went to public meetings and when he did, he always had a his veil on and Atsumu has noticed that other gods were also infatuated with the moons, specifically Sakusa Kiyoomi.
There were nights where he saw Miwa, goddess of tides, singing to Kiyoomi. There were nights where Bakunawa, the guardian of Sulad, would rise from the sea and lock his gaze on Sakusa’s delicate body, mouth watering at the thought of swallowing the moon deity.
Atsumu knew he had to take action, he had to make sure no one and nothing would take Sakusa Kiyoomi from him. Not one breathing being on this earth can steal his moonlight.
He didn’t really want to use his power to threaten and command others to do his bidding, he didn’t want to use the very thing they misunderstood him for. But he’d paint himself as the bad guy, he’d succumb to those assumptions as long as he’d keep what was his.
Atsumu asked the birds and mermaids to sing his endearments for Sakusa.
“At nakita kita sa tagpuan ni Bathala may kinang sa mata na 'di maintindihan,”
The choir of sirens sang beneath the night sky, their voices accompanied beautifully by waves crashing onto the beach sand and the rocks that the sirens were sitting on. Song birds harmonized with their hypnotic voices.
The moon deities immediately stopped in their tracks, attention going down towards the ocean beneath them.
Sakusa’s eyes shot towards the mountain where Atsumu stood quietly, clutching his chest nervously. “Nakakainggit naman,” Tsukishima and his siblings teased the dark haired deity.
Semi summoned his gitarai, quickly finding his footing, playing along with the sirens.
Harana.
“Who would’ve thought the god of death was a romantic?” Alisa sighed dreamily, hands together as she closed her eyes, listening closely to the lyrics.
“At hindi, 'di mapaliwanag, ang nangyari sa akin,” Sakusa almost fell when Atsumu suddenly started to sing, his voice was deep but it was smooth and, dare he say, nakaka-in love.
With a flick of Atsumu’s fingers, various flowers bloomed — roses, moon flowers, sampaguitas, wax flowers, camellias, rananclus — and they made sweet perfumes, addicting scents that reached the heavens.
“Saksi ang lahat ng tala sa iyong panalangin,”
The wind picked up a a certain rose, petals red and dewy, guiding it towards up to the sky and softly placing itself on Sakusa’s trembling hands.
“Sana all nililigawan,” Tsukishima said loudly, hoping a certain star deity would hear.
In a blink of an eye, Atsumu reached up to the night sky and took bouqet of starlight, giving them to winged insects. It took no longer than a second for them to start glowing a warm glow, lighting up the dark midnight sky. It was then that the God of Death decided to call them fireflies. It was breath taking, Sakusa mumbled to himself, it was as if the night sky was crying, the stars falling down to the earth.
One by one, the fireflies stopped in front of Sakusa, forming the outline of grand stairs. They were lighting up the way, leading the way for Sakusa Kiyoomi to find his way to him.
“Nu'ng nakita kita sa tagpuan ni Bathala, may kinang sa mata na 'di maintindihan,”
Sakusa’s eyes followed the fireflies, how they lead directly to Atsumu.
Was this really the god of death? The one that so many others rumored to be intimidating, to be power hungry, and cruel? There, standing on the top of the mountain, he looked almost innocent. The look in his eyes were almost painful to look at — they were filled with so much adoration, so much admiration, and borderline worship.
Sakusa Kiyoomi had never felt like that before. He has never felt as loved and wanted as he did in that moment.
“At tumigil ang mundo nu'ng ako'y ituro mo,”
Atsumu swore he almost puked his heart out. The sound of Sakusa’s voice was addicting. It sounded like his dream filled nights, his voice wasn’t the warmest but it was the most comforting. It sounded like winds answering your whispered confessions. Like rain pitter pattering outside your window on a rainy afternoon.
“At tumigil ang mundo nu'ng ako'y pinili mo,”
The moon deities teased their sibling, playfully shoving him down the ““stairs””. “Asus, nahihiya pa siya,” Tsukishima snickered, playing with a few fireflies in the sky.
Every step Sakusa took, a million thoughts tried to intrude his mind but every time he looked back towards Atsumu and his hopeful gaze, they all disappeared with only one thing on his mind.
“Is this what it feels like to be loved?”
When Sakusa had finally stopped in front of Atsumu whose face was now a bright red, eyes wide, and mouth agape, Sakusa now knew what it felt like to be adored. He finally knew what it felt like to be the center of someone’s universe.
A shaky hand reached out and interlaced with Atsumu’s own — it was electric. The moment their skins touched Atsumu swore it felt like home. Sakusa swore it felt like a million emotions came crashing in his chest, it felt like falling in love was worth the risk.
“’Di ka na torpe?” Sakusa’s voice was above a whisper.
Atsumu was so much prettier up close, Sakusa had to admit, golden horns sitting on top of Atsumu's head surrounded by bleached hair, black and gold haori failed to hide his muscular build, neck and wrists covered in golden jewelry, and the tattoos made of shinining golden ink that covered his entire right arm seemed to have a life of its own. A swarm of black butterflies that always seemed to follow him around, sitting on his shoulders didn't help his dangerously good looks and aura.
“’Di na, baka maagawan pa ‘ko,” Atsumu mumbled, pulling the moon deity closer, noses almost touching.
So this is what Kiyoko meant, Sakusa thought, this is what she meant when she said that there are the lucky bunch.
“They’re soulmates, aren’t they?” Kei wasn’t surprised when the goddess of love appeared beside him, her lips in a satisfied smile. “Didn’t originally plan it that way but their center of gravities just seemed to pull each other closer, even if I didn’t do some intervention, they would’ve found themselves to each other one way or another,” Shimizu hummed.
“To be able to be loved, you have to have something worth loving,” the full moon deity hummed along to the sirens, body swaying on its own.
It was cute, Shimizu had to admit, it was cute seeing those two stand side by side, muscular and intimidating looking god of death looking so soft and vulnerable in front of delicate and naive looking deity of the moon.
With a snap of his fingers, Atsumu summoned all the gifts, flowers, and songs he could shower Sakusa with. It was materialistic but that was the love language of the god of death and it wasn’t like Sakusa was really complaining as long as he could feel the warmth of Atsumu’s arms around him every second of the day and night.
Legend says that the two lovers are still together, happily living on top of Mt. Madjaas to this very day. Maybe Atsumu was the reason why the moon never asks for more company, never asks for more stars, and never complains when mortals slumber peacefully inside their homes—because he already has his entire world with him. Sometimes the universe just favors some lovers more than the others.